Name: Nira of Malleore

Race: Human

Class: Witcher

Age: 26

Appearance: [img=http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/vikings/images/revival_frithiof_painting2_zoom.jpg]

Fresh faced and youthful, Nira is immediately apparent as a true son of the Dragon Mountains. Sunless winters have left him nearly as pale as the famous White Wolf, but the waves of blonde hair shimmering down his back betray the fact that he never underwent the extremes of experimentation that Geralt was subject to. Instead, he is but a normal witcher, his pale blue irises surrounding feline slit pupils, brutal scars marring any exposed skin from a decade of monster hunting, muscles toned and swollen in battle, and his fair skin freckled on the cheeks from summers spent in the south chasing beasts of the forest and steppe.

Nira's thick winter coat, bristling at its edges with the seal fur lining, accompanies the young Witcher even in his ventures down to the steamy Yaruga and beyond, though the amount it is stuffed with extra layers is determined by latitude. At home in the Hengfors League or even in a winter retreat in drafty Kaer Morhen, he often resembles the bear depicted by his silver medallion, as he is so swollen with fur undergarments, though his platinum maned head pokes out on its slender stalk. It is abnormal to find him clad in hues other than white and various shades of blue, excepting the brown leather sword belt across his chest and back. Upon this strap he wears both his meteorite and his silver sword parallel, at ready reach of his right hand. At his hip is a dagger the length of his forearm, and elsewhere on the belt of his trousers are small vials of elixirs arranged in threes by function.

Personality: Since childhood, the northern witcher has been a relative introvert. While in training, his masters noted his penchant for quiet - in every sense - determination. He would often sneak out of his chambers late at night, not to visit the taverns in the nearby hamlets as his fellow novices, or even the room of the sorceress aiding the masters with the mutations, but rather to scour the library with a candle, picking up all of the knowledge that he could ascertain, or to run the obstacles again and again by moon and starlight. He was and is a quester after knowledge, reading and speaking the elder tongue and seeking out the learned of every village he works in.

Interpersonally, Nira is a silent soul, speaking little to those he is not close with. It is not a disdainful taciturnity, but merely bashfulness that holds his tongue. Moreover, he expresses his thoughts through masterful control of his facial expressions. It was once joked by one of his few friends that he "has a thousand subtly unique grimaces for every type of disgust, a thousand types of shockingly warm smiles for each kind of happiness, and a hundred thousand different icy stares for each word you misplace. Oh, look! A hundred thousand one!". What words which do escape Nira's tight lips are often terse and eloquent, delivered in a callow and melodious voice marred by underuse. Naturally, he does what he can to work alone.

Weapons: A steel sword tinged yellow by the meteorite from which it was forged, a fluted silver longsword, and a long stiletto dagger.

Bio: Royal bastards, especially males are often given a high place in the world. Nobility, a spot in line to the throne, the funds to live comfortably, or at least a written record of his pedigree are the normal boons to being born of a regent and one outside the true royal family. The progeny of Niedamir of Hengfors' ravaging a poor and unsuspecting blonde in the snowy Talgar hills was denied all these privileges. When the bulbously pregnant woman appeared at the castle in Hengfors demanding her deserved justice and reparations, Niedamir decided, instead, to hide the disgrace from the record. Thus Nira was born in a dungeon cell, and sent to a boarding school in Malleore in the arms of a now tongueless mother.

Nira was never out of trouble at the school. His lack of personability caught him much flak from the other boys, and from the day he was old enough to form a fist he stood up for himself silently and violently, as he has lived much of his life since. Thus ignited his love for learning, being alone in the school's mediocre book repository, whether in hiding from the others, or sequestered there as a punishment for fighting. Yet his studious nature could not keep him in the good graces of the headmaster with his behavioral record. Overwhelmed by regret and the painful memory, his mother had ceased to visit him in the school when she married off back to Talgar, though she still secretly payed his tuition with what was left of a covert sum offered to her by Niedamir for the purpose. Thus, there was no one to collect him when he was expelled.

He made his way to Ban Exctar at his still young age, and began toil as a novice dock-hand. His days became full of the fishy stench that accompanied unloading ships. As he entered puberty, his muscles grew with the work, and he gained physical strength quickly and assuredly. He could not escape his streak of troublemaking, however, and was often caught stealing. Because he did so just to keep his stomach intact, the deckhands and dock workers would often let him off with a lashing, which he could tolerate easily. Yet when the guards caught him red-handed, he was chased out of the city and back onto the road. At this point of wandering, he was met by a hardened yet seemingly benevolent older man with the strangest eyes and most intriguing medallion that Nira had ever seen. The man recognized the strength of body under the boy's pale skin, and the strength of his mind behind the piercing blue eyes. They would both be needed in the Trial of the Grasses. And so Nira returned to the feet of the dragon mountains.

In the decade that followed his graduation from the Witcher school of the Bear, he traveled the content as far south as Mettina(though the heat stifled any thought of returning), and from coast to the Blue Mountains, though he often returned home to Malleore. In his travels, he developed a disdain for the Four Kingdoms and for Nilfgaard equally. The product of a small country, and the disowned son of a king, he had little love for those he saw as power-hungry oppressors of independent peoples. When the Four Kingdoms began their land grab following the death of Foltest and Demavend, Nira was in the southern border of the Pontar Valley, using the slaying of Echinopsae which plagued a farming hamlet's wheat field as a cover for watching the movements of Aedirnian forces and reporting them to the local Scoia'tael.